


Three Little Words

by sksdwrld



Series: Comment_Fic and Drabble-prompt fills [6]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-11
Updated: 2014-01-11
Packaged: 2018-01-08 09:15:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1130854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sksdwrld/pseuds/sksdwrld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin is not a man to be denied. Arthur is not a man to be trifled with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Little Words

**Author's Note:**

  * For [agirlnamedtruth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/agirlnamedtruth/gifts).



> For V, who prompted me "Those. Three. Words" but since I cannot do things the conventional way, this is your booby prize.

"Come to mine..." Merlin breathed.

The blonde God shook his head and unzipped his pants then shoved at Merlin's shoulders, forcing him to his knees. "Just do it." His cock was beautiful and inspired Merlin in a way he'd never been before. He worshipped it with reverence befitting a deity and in the hopes that his devotion would be rewarded.

Instead, Merlin had hardly swallowed and the bloke was zipping up and walking away. "See you around..."

Merlin hadn't seen him again though. He absolutely not been stalking the hot blonde bloke that he'd blown in the back of the club. He'd hardly thought of him, in fact because it had been two months ago.

He hadn't been rebuked at the club when they happened to bump into eachother in the loo and he hadn't watched the blonde God climb into his his cherry-red, pretentious-but-boner-inducing Aston Martin. Merlin certainly hadn't written down the plate number to run it through the DVLA system that he'd never hacked into for just such a purpose.

Merlin hadn't learned that Arthur Pendragon was an affluent businessman who owned a place in Belgravia or that Arthur had accrued two speeding tickets within the last month and a half. He had no idea that Arthur's father was just as rich and had a home in Mayfair and two others on the continent, because Google in no way divulged that sort of information.

Merlin hadn't followed him to work on three seperate occasions, stood four people away from him in the canteen line, watching him order sandwich sans onion and tomato but with extra pickle. Merlin hadn't watched as Arthur carefully spooned soup into his mouth while he read the paper and checked his email on his phone.

Merlin couldn't tell you that Arthur Pendragon bought the fancy, quilted three-ply bog rolls or that he was addicted to prawn-crisps and cheap shandy and that was because he had never followed him in the grocery store and certainly not five time.

Merlin had no idea that Arthur liked to go to the club on Thursdays and had dinner with his sister every Sunday at eight. He couldn't tell you whether or not Arthur went for a run every morning at five or that the towels in his bathroom were grey.

What he could tell you was that Arthur was a man of three words:

"Not tonight, thanks."  
"Flattering, but no."  
"Who are you?"  
"Stop following me."  
"Leave me alone."  
"Piss off, mate."  
"Call the authorities!"  
"He's fucking mad..."

The last wasn't from Arthur, but the cop who examined Merlin's documents as he sat in his car, half a block away from Arthur's place. "You're under arrest."


End file.
